Lost Contact
by TheSpazzo
Summary: Escorting citizens through the canals has become part of a routine for Alyx. But this time, one of her charges has stolen a Combine data packet, turning an ordinary recovery run into a deadly game of cat-and-mouse against an army of Metrocops.
1. Extraction

Disclaimer: I don't own the Half-Life franchise or its respective characters. Valve does.

***

**Lost Contact**

**Chapter One: Extraction  
**

"We've got another recovery call, Dr. Vance."

"Again? That's the second time this week. Barney says Civil Protection is starting to get wise."

"I'm just a radio operator, Dr. Vance. I can't control what comes over the airwaves."

"Well, who're we getting out this time?" Eli Vance asked as he kept watch on the monitors in the Black Mesa East communications room. The concrete walls, for the most part, were gray, speckled with bits of moss and pocked with missing pieces. A huge array of monitors and computers dominated the side of the room furthest from the door, where the Resistance kept a close watch on all that was happening in City 17.

"Station Two says they've got a civilian family. Husband and wife."

"Anything that justifies sending out Alyx on another recovery run?"

"The wife's nothing special, far as we can tell. The husband says he stole some data on Overwatch troop concentrations and movements." Eli turned to the radio operator.

"Where are they now?"

"Uhhh…last known location was en route to Station Six. Burris says they should be arriving there any minute now."

"Tell him to hold them at Six until Alyx arrives. We lost contact with Seven…two weeks ago, was it?"

"Mhm. Don't you think it's a bit risky, though, repeatedly sending her out as a guide ever since Seven went down?"

"She's the only one who's willing to go." Leaning forward, he pressed a green button and spoke into a microphone. "Alyx, come over to the communications room."

***

The voice that played over the PA system, rousing her from sleep, had a ragged and familiar edge to it. "Alyx, come over to the communications room."

Alyx Vance sighed and got off the couch that had served as an impromptu bed for the last – she glanced at a nearby clock as she made her way to the elevator at the far end of the common room – four hours. Tapping the button for the second floor, Alyx crossed her arms and leaned against the elevator's walls as the floors slowly passed by.

She fiddled with the duct tape on the right sleeve of her jacket, remembering the close call with the Manhack that had left her something to remember it by last week during a foray into the city. Right before she blasted it out of the air with her machine pistol, of course. She'd dropped by the supply office after that and bummed some duct tape off the ex-military man who ran it for some (what did he call it? "Field expedient"?) repairs.

The elevator doors creaked open. Alyx strode into the communications room and glanced up at the monitors. "Another recovery run?" Her father nodded. "That…doesn't strike you as just a little bit dangerous?"

"The risks are much higher this time. There's no denying that. But if we manage to get these two out, it could make a lot of difference." Alyx cocked an eyebrow in response. "This man claims he's stolen some data on Overwatch troop movements. Now this is, without a doubt, highly classified material. If we could get our hands on it and decode it, it'd go a long way towards leveling the playing field."

"So you want me to make sure nothing happens to him."

"If you could. But don't stop any bullets for him. You're all I have left. They'll be waiting for you at Station Six. Civil Protection's been patrolling the canals non-stop ever since that stunt you pulled three days ago, so you'll have to take the sewers. Got your knife?" Alyx removed a razor-sharp dagger from a sheath on her belt and displayed it for Eli to see.

"Your backup?" Alyx bent down and removed a blade from a sheath concealed in her right boot.

"Good. And your pistol?" Alyx opened her jacket, revealing a concealed holster in which her modified Colt .45 rested.

"Alright, the airlock's open. Be careful out there, Alyx," Eli cautioned.

"I will be," Alyx replied as she made her way back to the elevator and tapped the button for the first floor.

***

Eli watched with a heavy heart as the elevator escorted Alyx out of sight.

"Well, there she goes," the radio operator stated.

"I just hope she comes back in one piece. I don't think I could take it if she didn't." Silence enveloped the room, save for the electronic chirps and beeps of the computers.

"Over twenty years of work went into her, you know that? Twenty-three and counting. And to have all that amount to nothing in the end, all because of a bullet, a lousy piece of lead and copper. God, I don't think I could take it." Silence again, longer this time.

"You did a helluva job, Doc. One helluva job."

"I hope so."

***

The door to the elevator opened again, and Alyx stepped out, entering the airlock. The blast door slammed shut behind her.

"Quite the adventurer, aren't we, Alyx?" Alyx's blood boiled as Dr. Mossman appeared on the monitor. She hated that voice, hated its condescending, schoolteacher _I'm better than you and you'll damn well acknowledge it_ tone.

"Let me out, Mossman."

"As you wish," was the reply as the blast door in front of her opened. The early evening sky was a pleasant mixture of cerulean, turquoise, and mauve, clouds dotting the heavens with flecks of pale white. A gentle breeze, cool and crisp, washed up against Alyx, embracing her as she pried off a nearby manhole cover and dropped in.

***

Alyx hated sewers. It hadn't been as bad as when she was younger, at least, not that she could remember. Back then, sewers had been forbidden netherworlds of filth and decay, but here, they were vital lines of supply and communication. Adapt. Adopt. Evolve. That was how you survived these days.

Alyx grimaced as the filthy water sloshed over her boots while she ran. Necessity might be the mother of invention, but that didn't mean said invention had to be sanitary. Her pistol was out, failing work lights strung along the sewers' length playing off the gunmetal. She paused at a T-junction. Station Six was…_that way_, she remembered, taking a left. A low moan reverberated throughout the sewer. Alyx halted, her hazel eyes expertly scanning the tunnel. A voice, muffled and throaty, reached her ears.

"Get it off me!"

More moaning.

Alyx shrugged and resumed jogging through the sludge. _Zombies up ahead. No biggie. _The sewers had become packed with them a few years ago, after some of Ravenholm's former inhabitants somehow managed to migrate to the abandoned tunnels. The moans became louder now, and a zombie shambled around a corner. It screamed through the headcrab perched atop its head as it slowly shuffled toward Alyx. She brought her pistol up, aligning the sights on the headcrab. There was no need to control her breathing at this range. She squeezed the trigger.

_Bupbupbup._

The zombie collapsed into the sewage, taking its headcrab with it. _One down, I don't even wanna know how many to go._ Alyx ran on, rounding the corner the zombie had come from. More moans echoed throughout the tunnel. She groaned as two zombies waddled towards her while a third stood up and joined its comrades. _Aw, crap, more?_ She took aim at the zombie in the middle.

_Bupbupbup. Bupbupbup. Bupbupbup._

Alyx surveyed her handiwork as she reloaded her pistol. _Three bursts, three kills. You're getting better, Alyx._ She resumed her jog through the brown water.

***

How long had it been since she had dropped down that manhole? Two, three hours? She didn't know, but however long it had been, it had been far too long. The stench of decaying waste was starting to get to her. Alyx covered her nose and mouth with one hand while keeping a tight grip on her pistol with the other, trying not to gag. _I'll be surprised if I don't smell like shit for a whole week._

A beeping noise behind her caught her attention, and she spun around, pistol up and ready. A flash of light blinded her for a split-second, and she instinctively shielded her eyes. Her vision quickly recovered, and Alyx found herself looking directly into the eye of a Scanner. She wasted no time as she emptied half a clip into the machine while it beeped frantically and threw off sparks and smoke. Finally, it crashed into the water and short-circuited, the explosion deafening in the echo chamber that was the tunnel. _Crap. Now I'll have to find another way back if I don't want every CP in the city on my tail. _She paused for a moment, reflecting on it.

_Screw it. They'll be all over the place anyway, especially after getting me on camera. This way's as good as any._

She rounded another corner. Daylight beckoned from the other side of a distant grate. _Station Six, here I come. _She jogged up to the grate and slipped through a break in the bars, hopping onto a nearby plank to avoid the green waste that slowly oozed along underfoot.

"Eugene? Kevin? Anyone, hello?"

"Hey, Alyx!" came the whispered reply. Alyx snapped her head to the left to see Eugene gesturing at her from behind a chain-link fence. He was a baby-faced man of average build with large, bored blue eyes, clad in the standard-issue blue "prison" garb and toting a submachine gun.

"Over here! I got your refugees!"

"Are they ready to go?" Alyx inquired, making her way over to Eugene.

"Yeah, just – whoa, where've you been lately? You reek!" Alyx rolled her eyes. Eugene always had been the shoot-from-the-hip kind of person.

"I had to come here through the sewers. My dad says they've been patrolling every inch of the canals ever since that whole…incident a couple days ago."

"Oh yeah. I heard about that. Where'd you get your hands on that much comp B?"

"I have my ways."

"Yeah, I'll bet. That took some serious balls, though." He paused for a moment. "Or in your case, ovaries." Alyx tried, and failed, to suppress a groan.

"You got 'em or what?"

"Mhm. This way," Eugene answered, opening a door. Inside was a room partially filled with storage crates.

"So…where are they?"

"Right beneath your feet."

"Oh, haha. You're a riot, Eugene."

"You think I'm kidding?" Eugene responded as he flipped open a hidden panel on the wall, revealing a circuit breaker. He flipped the two rightmost switches. A large rectangular portion of the floor slowly lowered down to form a ramp, accompanied by a _whirr_ of hydraulics.

"Welcome to my own little happy place. It's stuffy, cramped, and God only knows what's in the water, but it's a damn sight better than the city."

"Yeah, I hear you. Anyone down there?" Alyx called into the chamber.

"Coming up!" came the reply. Two citizens, also clad in blue jumpsuits, clambered up the ramp. One was a man with short-cropped black hair, an angular face, and small, nervous brown eyes. The other was a woman with soft features, small eyebrows, and brown hair, pulled back in a ponytail.

"Alyx, meet Casey and Brian Henderson. Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, meet Alyx Vance."

"So you're our ticket outta here?" Brian asked.

"Mhm. Just follow my lead, and we should make it back safe and sound. You got the data?" Brian took a tobacco tin out of his shirt pocket and opened it. Inside were two microchips in a plastic case, flanked by a couple of lead weights and some cotton balls pressed up against the side of the case.

"It's so the weights don't rattle," he explained upon seeing Alyx's confused expression.

"Uhhh…excuse me, but is something decomposing in your jacket?" Casey asked, pinching her nose shut.

"No, I just came here through the sewers. And it's not like you're gonna smell any better after we get out of here."

"We're going back through the sewers?" Casey asked, mouth agape.

"It's either that or going through the canals and finding a way around the biggest concentration of CPs in the city. The way I see it, we can smell bad for weeks or rot in Nova Prospekt for years."

"But…" Casey started to protest.

"Look, we're gonna meet up with Metrocops no matter where we go. I'd rather fight them in the sewers than in the canals. We'll get a head start on them there, and they don't know the sewers as well as I do." She turned and made her way back to the grating, hopping from board to board. She looked back to see Brian and Casey hadn't budged.

"Well? You guys coming, or what?"

***

Author's note:

Here it is, my first long-term Half-Life project. Don't expect updates too frequently, i.e, you'll be wasting your time if you come here and mash F5 on a weekly basis. I'm focusing more on finishing up more oneshots like Aftermath right now, but my goal is to have a new chapter up every month or two. Well, "or two" might be stretching it a bit. But hey, these things take time.

Sorry for the complete absence of suspense and drama in this chapter. This is mostly setting the stage for later chapters.

In case you were wondering, "comp B" is short for composition B, an explosive much like C4.

Again, I'd like to thank my sister Katie and my friend Chris for beta reading this work.


	2. Evasion

Disclaimer: I don't own Half-Life. Valve does.

A/N: And here it is, the second chapter of Lost Contact. I've gotten more than a little rusty (I stopped writing this at about the halfway mark around August, and only recently picked it back up), but hopefully it's not too noticeable. My writing style has changed somewhat during that period as well.

I would like to thank all the people who have put me on Author Alert and all the people who have put this on Story Alert for their incredible patience. An author is nothing without an audience.

I don't plan on writing chapter three anytime soon - I want to focus my efforts on more oneshots, as well as another chapter or two for 17 Burning.

On another note, I've put up a poll on my profile page. Be sure to vote - or voice your opinion in the reviews, whichever.

I'm feeling a bit under the weather, so I better wrap this up. Reviews are welcome, as is constructive criticism (I see no reason why the two should be mutually exclusive).

**Chapter Two**

**Evasion**

"So how far is this station you were talking about?" Brian asked. The trio had been wading through the sewer sludge for quite some time now. Asking questions seemed to be Brian's way of taking his mind off their current predicament, something Alyx would've been fine with if not for the possibility of Metrocop patrols around every corner.

"About three hours. Now hush up. There'll be time for talk once we're out of here."

"If you say so."

"Which I do." Alyx checked her watch. 9:47. Good. Night was a friend of the rebels. It hid them, nurtured them, sheltered them from the legions of Combine that dominated the daylight hours, and the CPs knew it. Terrible things had been known to happen to canal Metrocops whose curiosity had gotten the better of them during the wee hours. Alyx, and most of the rebels for that matter, had heard the stories told by half-sober saboteurs who would spin their tales around a dying campfire, their audiences hanging on their every word.

_Then I sneak up behind him, wrap this wire 'round his neck real tight-like…_

"Let's keep moving. With any luck, we'll be there before sunrise."

"I thought you said it was three hours away."

"I did, and it is." A rat squeaked in the distance, followed by the patter of clawed feet on concrete. A shaft of light from an open manhole up ahead illuminated the stagnant water, and a wrecked ladder, which Alyx could only assume had led to the surface once, lay in pieces below.

"So, uhhh…you ever run into any Metrocops down here?"

"Nope. So far, just zombies." Brian and Casey exchanged a worried look, and Alyx smirked.

"They're not so bad, except when they jump out of the water right at your feet. Then you just gotta kick 'em in the lungs. The stomach works, too, but it's a bit squishier. I've never tried the liver, though. If you're willing to be a little adventurous and report back to me on how it went…"

"Do you do this to all of your charges?"

"Some of them."

A hiss of static interrupted their brief exchange. The trio halted on instinct.

"They're here? Already?" Brian whispered, his voice trembling.

"I wouldn't jump to conclusions just yet. For all we know, it could've been a -"

"**All units, B.O.L, we have a 34-S. Vance subprime is believed to be 505 in this sector. Repeat, Vance subprime is believed to be 505 in this sector."**

"**Dispatch, request all units be on call for backup to aid in final prosecution." **

"_Shit._ Okay, so they're here. Keep your voices down and don't panic."

"Don't panic? All we've got is that little popgun of yours. I think panicking isn't such a bad idea right now." Alyx grabbed his lapel and pulled him close.

"You want a stunstick upside the head?"

"No," he whispered back, eyes big as dinner plates.

"Then stay quiet while I figure this out." She released her grip and caught him readjusting his collar out of the corner of her eye before she went to work. The light (there was only one working bulb around) flickered on and off with a buzz of electricity. The aged, cracking concrete walls seemed to close in on them, trapping them like grizzlies in a forest full of poachers. On a whim, she ran her hand over the wall nearest her. It was rough, on par with sandpaper, but she'd felt worse. Her hand suddenly met air, and then – something long and metallic. She pulled downwards, and it didn't resist. The light sputtered back on, revealing a door, its battleship-grey paint speckled with rust.

"We lucked out. Maintenance room." She pulled it open, the tarnished hinges shrieking in protest.

"**Reaper Two-One to Reaper Six, I heard something."**

"**Take Two-Two, check it out."**

"**Roger."**

"Crap. Get in and get down." The duo quickly filed in. Alyx followed suit, shutting the door behind her. The room was dark, but that was to be expected. Her eyes soon adjusted to the blackness, and she was able to make out…not much at all, really. Save for a handful of pipe fittings, a red toolbox (with _DL_ in big black letters near the handle), and a pile of trash in one corner, the room was empty. She exhaled, a breathless sigh.

They were closer now, much closer. She could hear them sloshing through the waste.

"**No viscon yet, Reaper."**

"**Roger, keep looking."**

Brian whispered, "What if they – "

"_Shut. It."_ Alyx inched over to the door, holstering her pistol with shaky hands as she did so.

"**Two-Two, you getting any blips on the stabilization readout?"**

"**Wait one, Two-One."**

"Ah_-choo!_"

The sneeze startled her, and she snapped her head around to see Casey rubbing her nose.

"It's the dust. I'm aller –" Alyx clamped a hand over her mouth.

"**You hear that?" **More sloshing.

"**It came from in here. Reaper, this is Reaper Two-One, how copy?"**

"**Solid copy, Two-One. Report."**

"**Possible contact. Moving in and confirming, out."** Alyx's heart leapt up into her throat and stayed there, wedged in her hair on her arms bristled. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry, her tongue a coarse, dehydrated weight.

The door slowly creaked open. A gun barrel poked in, then arms, then a boot. Alyx glanced at her knife, lying impotent in its sheath. _No. Too risky. Should've gotten it before he came in. Stupid, stupid, stupid…_

The door flew inward with a crash and two black and gray blurs leapt into the room, their submachine guns raised. Alyx lunged for the one nearest her, whipping out her knife as she did so – the metal made a beautiful _shick_ exiting the sheath. The Metrocop turned at the sound and swung his gun around, but Alyx was already on him. She slit his throat with a swipe, flicked the blade around, then jammed it into the incision, puncturing his left lung. She kicked him to the floor with a boot to the chest, and crimson liquid gushed from the wound. An attempt at a scream came out as a wet gurgle as air and blood mixed. Too slow.

"**CONTACT!"** his partner screamed. Alyx turned to him, driven by instinct now, and swept him off his feet with a grunt. A knee to his groin and a fist to his solar plexus for good measure. She twisted the gun out of his hands, took out the magazine, and cleared the chamber in the blink of an eye. The Metrocop groaned, stunned momentarily.

"Brian!" she whispered. In the far corner of the room, a head snapped up, attentive, listening.

"Catch!" she instructed, tossing the weapon and magazine to him. The Metrocop groaned again and stirred. Another punch to the solar plexus and what sounded like a yelp from the Metrocop.

"_Shut up,"_ Alyx hissed, putting her knife to the Metrocop's throat.

"**Let go of me!" **A stomp to the knee and another yelp.

"I said _shut up._" A crackle of static sounded from inside the Metrocop's mask.

"**Reaper Two-One, this is Reaper, report. We've lost contact with Two-Two.**" Alyx pressed the knife into his throat, and the Metrocop gasped.

"Calm him down."

"**What do you want me to say?"** He sounded…fearful. _Probably the first time the shmuck's been on the short end of the stick since he put that uniform on._

"Zombies got him. You'll check out the tunnel a little more then head back. You'll maintain radio silence." The Metrocop paused for a split second.

"Do it." She pressed the knife deeper.

"**Okay, okay, okay!" **He held his hands up, acquiescing. **"Reaper Six, this is Reaper Two-One, over."**

"**Reaper reads you five by five Two-One, send traffic."**

"**We made contact with some necrotics, Reaper Six. Two-Two is down."**

"**Reaper copies all. Request medical?"**

"**Negative, don't bother. I'm going to move further down the tunnel then head back when I can. Going dark, over."**

"**Copy, Two-One. Reaper out."**

"**That it?"** The Metrocop asked.

"For you? Yep." Alyx grabbed him by the nape of the neck and slammed his head against the concrete wall, knocking him unconscious.

"Brian, Casey, stay here and wait for my signal." The duo nodded dumbly, shock etched into their faces. Alyx creeped over to the door and slowly opened it, wincing at the creak of the hinges. She peeked out furtively, first to the left, then the right, then left again. Nothing but cracked and crumbling concrete and wastewater. Alyx squinted just to be sure. Half the city's CP units – gone, just like that. No, something was afoot. She could feel it. It was never this easy.

"Let's go," she said warily. "Brian, you still have that gun?"

"Yeah, but I –"

"Give it here," she replied, holding out a hand. She felt the cold metal a moment later and closed her hand around it. It was comfort, it was strength, it was protection.

"Mag, too," she added, holding out another hand. He slapped the metallic stick into her grasp, and she inserted it into the magazine well and pulled back on the bolt. Locked, cocked, and ready to rock.

"A few minutes ago, they were tearing up the sewers looking for us, and now they're gone. You don't find that strange?" Brian asked.

"Of course I do. I wouldn't be a very good guide if I didn't."

"So…"

"Look, the way I see it, sitting in that maintenance room wasn't going to get you guys to Black Mesa East any faster. It's a risk worth taking."

"But what if they're setting a trap for us? All it would take is a handful of CPs and no one would be the wiser."

"Jesus, you're paranoid. If they had their shit together, they would've ambushed us as soon as we came out of the room. If there's one thing I learned about CPs since I became a guide, it's that they don't do subtle."

"I don't like it."

"You don't like – look, let me put it to you this way," Alyx proposed, turning around. "Look behind you." Brian complied. "Now look in front of you." Brian looked back. "See anything?"

"No."

"Neither do I. In my line of work, we call that getting away scot-free, and it's not something we take for granted. Now let's go," Alyx ordered, turning back.

"Wait, wait!" Brian whispered urgently.

"Christ, what now?" Alyx asked, exasperated.

"I heard something."

"Fantastic, your ears are working. Good for you."

"No, I'm being serious! I heard something!"

"Like what? Zombie, mouse, headcrab, bogeyman, _what?_"

"I dunno! It was an echo…of something."

"An echo. Of something." Brian nodded frantically.

"I did, I swear!"

"What was it an echo _of?_"

"I said I don't know! Maybe a ra-"

"**Reaper Six, Reaper Six, this is Sundown. Confirmed necrotic infestation in this sector. Charges are set and blast zone is clear. Ready to initiate stacked detonation on your mark." **

The words were like a kick in the gut. In a way it was a memento, a particularly vicious one – _Hi, didn't you hear they were going to blow the sewers to Timbuktu to seal in those darned zombies? No? Looks like your sixth sense failed you here, kiddo. With no love – your local Civil Protection unit._

"_Run!"_ Alyx hollered. She sprinted through the wastewater, Brian and Casey panting to keep up. She felt the first explosion milliseconds before she heard it – a searing heat on her jacket, followed by a thunderous _CRACK_ as the concrete came crashing down, spraying warm sewage everywhere.

"_Keep running!"_ A second one, another ear-splitting _CRACK_. The pressure wave pushed her forward, and she stumbled. _It's not your time yet – come on!_

"_Where the hell do we go now?!" _Brian shouted. A third one, reduced to a muffled _THUMP_ – her eardrums were going, she could feel it. God _damn_ did it hurt.

"_Anywhere but here!" _Her voice wasn't hers anymore – it sounded alien, strange, more alto than soprano. Another muffled _THUMP_, another pressure wave that threatened to tip her off balance. They ran a corner, debris nipping at their heels. Blindingly bright moonlight spilled out over the murky sludge.

"_Drainage pipe up ahead! Run for it!"_ Her legs were about to give out on her, she could feel it – _come on, just a couple more yards to go _– her breaths came in short, labored pants – _almost there, keep going_ – her lungs felt like they were on fire – _just a few more feet, you can do this _– and she finally ran out onto honest-to-God _grass_. She fell to the ground, her chest heaving. She laughed, a short, victorious giggle.

"Sure pulled one over on them, huh, Brian? Told you I'd get you out of there in one piece." Silence greeted her. She turned around, puzzled.

"Brian?"

The last thing she heard was the electric crackling of a stunstick.

And then everything went black.


End file.
